


the rush of the calm (before the storm)

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Candy, Coulson Cooking For Skye, Coulson's Mom, F/M, Flirting, Humor, Making Out, Painting fingernails, Past, Ridiculous wish fulfillment, Safehouses, Secret Missions, Sharing a Bed, Shopping, Skoulson RomFest 2k15 REDUX, Skye can talk Coulson into anything, Skye's van, Sleepovers, impulsive kisses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-10 14:52:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4396148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skoulson RomFest 2k15 REDUX - DAY 3 · 22 July<br/>gloves, physical therapy</p><p>I don't really know where I'm going with this, only that I wanted Skye painting Coulson's nails and then painting his robot hand, so...yep!</p><p>More chapters as the Fest goes on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Physical Therapy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DAY 3 · 22 July - physical therapy

"Fine," she said, flatly, staring back at him. "We can share."

He waited until he had his back to her to make a slightly agonized face.

Of course he's done this before. Many times.

Just not with... _Skye_.

He always felt...

Like he couldn't hide. Or play it cool.

He went to the kitchenette.  The kitchen was always safe. 

Middle ground.

Shutting down the part of his brain running worst-case scenarios about sharing a bed was not really helping him right now.

It's not like she seemed crazy about the idea, either, but the safehouse made sense after they’d been tailed by an unknown assailant.

And there was no way in hell she was taking the floor and she'd fought him on it because, apparently, she'd spent most of her life sleeping in weird places.

Like that was supposed to make it better somehow?

"C'mon didn't you ever have sleepovers as a kid?" she asked, following him into the kitchen.

Trying to set him at ease, obviously.

He sighed deeply.

Okay, he'd play along.  Maybe it would take the edge off?

"Not really. My mom was a nurse," he said, going to the fridge. "Kept odd hours, so it would be like we were unsupervised. Other moms weren't into it."

After he'd stuck his head inside, she asked, "Anything good?

"Just the SHIELD staples," he said, holding up a bottle of beer as an offer.

Walking towards him, she took it out of his hand.

"Might he expired," he said, grabbing another, eyeing the label before popping the top off easily with his robot hand.

"So this is your first time?" she asked, watching him choke a little on his first sip.

"For what?" he asked, holding the bottle and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"To have a sleepover."

"I've had sleepovers as an adult, Skye," he answered sarcastically.

"Yeah, but that's different," she said leaning against the counter as he set his bottle down and rifled through the pantry.

"What all will this entail?" he asked, trying to be busy.

"Usually, you paint each other's nails,” she said, her lower lip poking out. “Braid hair."

"I'm going to be a real letdown," he said, smiling to himself.

"Or, any good gossip?” she said quickly. “We can always talk about who we think is cute back at the Playground."

He flipped around to look at her staring back at him innocently.

"I did paint my nails once," he said, landing on a safer subject.

"Really?" she replied, seeming scandalized.

"My misspent youth. After my dad...you know."

"What did your mom do?" she asked, picking up the ball and moving on.

Which was okay, he really wasn’t in the mood to talk about that.

"I thought she'd be mortified, but, she bought me more nail polish," he smiled, remembering.

"What color?"

"Blue. She said it matched my eyes," he shook his head, getting buried in the memory for a moment with a fond expression.

"It was gone two days later. I think she stole it."

"Do you want help?" she asked, watching him pull out a can of soup.

"I’m good," he said. “I’ve probably got a…can opener in his thing,” he joked, holding up his left hand.

Skye humored him for a moment, then asked. “Was that the end of your rebellious phase?"

She pulled herself up to sit on the counter nearby.

"Oh, no, are you kidding?" he smirked. "I immediately went out and bought a punk album.  _And_ stole her eyeliner."

She looked at him for a moment like she didn't believe him.

"Did it do the trick?"

He picked up his beer again. "She took me to my first Blondie concert. The nerve of her."

"Your mom sounds awesome," she told him with a grin, watching him take a swig.

"She was," he said quietly, a moment after. "She was always interested in what I was interested in."

"A good listener," she said, watching him before she took a long drink from her beer.

"Kind of like her son."

He watched her back.

 

#

 

"Fine. But it's coming off immediately after. Agreed?”

He toed his shoes off and settled back against the wooden headboard.

"Pink's not your shade?" she said, with concentration, unscrewing the top and checking the consistency.

"It clashes with my suit," he warned, pushing up the pillow behind his back, watching her in the chair from the desk, next to him, rubbing the bottle a few times between her hands before opening it again.

Apparently Skye kept nail polish in her backpack. Or, she had put it there once, then forgotten.

He wasn't sure which.

She wore nail polish, he was certain of that.

But this color seemed…early Skye. Before SHIELD.

It looked like bubblegum.

She reached for his hand taking it in hers and looking over his fingers.

He couldn't _believe_ he'd agreed to this.

Wait. Yes he could.

Skye could probably talk him into anything.

He sighed.

"Thanks for dinner," she said, glancing up at him.

"You probably shouldn’t thank me for _that_ ," he said. 

It came out of a can.

"I did assist," she added. "With the croutons.”

“Fair enough,” he said.

The stale bread in the cabinet was practically a crouton already, but, who was he to complain?

“We make a good team."

"We do," he answered, smiling back at her then finding himself looking away awkwardly, as she lifted his pinky finger.

“Wait,” she said, putting the brush back in the polish, and letting go of his hand, holding hers out.

“Robot hand first.”

“What?” he asked, knotting his eyebrows. “My robot hand doesn’t have nails.”

“Exactly!”

He groaned low in his chest then gave her his left hand. “I’m humoring you, you know that, right?”

"You have to be _really_ still," she said, lifting the fingers of his metal hand with hers.

Why why why had he agreed to this?

Watching her rolling up his sleeve was bad enough.

Did she really need to bite her lower lip like that while she concentrated?

"I just had an even better idea," she said suddenly, letting go of his hand, handing him the bottle of polish.

He took it, and settled against the bed as she sat up to rummage through her pocket and pulled out her phone.

She thumbed over it as the loud rock music blasted from it at full phone volume.

The sound was pretty distorted. He couldn't really tell who it was, but he got the message.

"I know it's not as cool as your first Debbie Harry concert. But still," she said tossing the phone onto the bed, settling back down to take up the polish and his hand.

He stared back at her, feeling suddenly overwhelmed. That she wanted to share this with him.

It probably looked ridiculous. _Definitely_ -

"What?" she asked. Stopping again as her eyes darted over his face. "Are you okay?"

"I'm just," he started, pursing his lips. "You're sweet. Thanks. I'm fine."

"You're welcome," she smiled looking down at her handiwork on his metal pinky, then blowing on the finger.

Not so fine.  And he couldn’t even feel it.

She smirked up at him as his eyes grew wider.

"Two coats?"


	2. Passenger seat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DAY 4 · 23 July - passenger seat
> 
> Coulson and Skye retrieve her van.

She watched him from behind the wheel of the rental as he picked at the polish on his hand.

"You're ruining all my hard work," she said with a click of her tongue.

Oh. _So_ funny.

"I might stand a chance of looking punk this way," he scowled.

At least his other hand had a glove covering it.

He should've known better. Of course she didn't have any polish remover.

"What happened to me being sweet?"

"Oh, I wonder," he shot back.

_Two coats._

"I just got caught up in the moment," she answered. "We'll get it off when we get to a convenience store."

This was not very convenient, having to bail in the middle of the night. After Koenig had called to alert them SHIELD had noticed the safehouse had tripped the silent alarm back at the base.

Had someone modified the protocol, or was he just getting sloppy?

Now, they'd have to send someone to check it out, and they'd find that the surveillance had been tampered with.

Now, he was tired and cranky. 

They needed to put in some distance before they found a motel.

"I've been thinking about something," she said abruptly.

"What?"

"A mobile unit? So we don't have to keep doing this."

By this, she meant the secret op they'd got up and barely running.

"Something discreet she went on. Like my van?"

He thought about it for a moment.

She obviously liked the fact that he was even entertaining this, so she went on.

"SHIELD stored it somewhere, right?"

"Yes," he answered slowly. "It could be in a government warehouse by now."

Similar to the way they'd acquired other SHIELD assets after the organization went to ruins.

"It's not like she was high-tech," Skye answered doubtfully. "It's probably in a lot somewhere, gathering dust."

"Or," he began, thinking of a more likely scenario, "They sent it to-"

"Don't...say it," Skye interrupted him, shutting her eyes dramatically for just a moment, then looked back at the road.

"I'll have Koenig look into it," he answered, bemused, getting his phone out. "I was thinking something a little more stealth mode, but, you're right. It could blend in to the places we're going."

"Thanks," she said suddenly energized.

He looked back at her. It was her op, after all.

"I'm going to get a little shut eye," he said.  "Wake me up when you need me."

"Copy that."

 

#

 

"Coulson this is amazing! I could kiss you!"

"Well. Uh-"

She was practically jumping up and down next to her van in the yard, and before he finished stammering she grabbed him by the lapels of his suit jacket and did just that.

"Five hundred," the yard manager said, staring over at them with an anxious expression.

Yes, they had interrupted him watching a playoff game in his office, but that was the price of doing business.

"What?!" Skye asked, swiveling towards him. "She's at least worth-"

"We'll take it," Coulson said, gesturing towards him and watching the guy eye his pink nails and rumpled suit, gave him a droll look in return.

He was looking at them like they'd had a rough night.  Which really, was kind of true.

"Rude," she said, taking cash out of her jacket pocket.  She shoved it over, glaring at the guy and crossing her arms.

"Keys are inside. Wasn't exactly worried about anyone stealing it."

"Hey, that was my home for-" she yelled after him. "Years," she finished quietly, as Coulson put his hand on her arm.

She huffed and then went to the door and swung it open, standing in the floorboard as she found the keys in the ashtray.

"See if it runs?" he asked, appearing next to her, pushing his aviators up the bridge of his nose.

Long night, indeed.

Putting the key in, she turned it over. She sounded tired, but started right up.

"Get in!"

"The rental car," he reminded, looking over past the chain link fence to it parked at the curb.

"What kind of SHIELD agent are you?" she raised her eyebrows at him. "Grab our stuff, we ditch it, send them the location."

"Okay," he said, peering warily inside the van, looking at the state of it. "If you say so."

Koenig had located the yard for them. 

That it was still in the metro area wasn't all that surprising.

But given that the plates were fake and the VIN had been scrubbed, what was the chance?

Heading around to the passenger side, he opened the door and pulled himself up into the seat.

"Hmm," he said, nodding warily.

"This brings back memories."

 

#

 

"Okay this is better remover," she said, holding it up. "Non-acetone."

He was looking over at a display of New Wave Summer colors, at a dark blue shade.

All this stuff was popular again. Or maybe it never went out if you were a 13 year old?

"Oh, you don't care you're picking out nail colors. What a hypocrite," she teased.

She had kissed him. He still wasn't over that.

Granted, it was probably just out of excitement and heartfelt something. It wasn't lingering or anything rom-

"I like it," she said, taking it from his hand, holding the bottle before tossing it in the basket. "Looks nice with your eyes," she grinned, walking to the checkout.

He slowly followed after looking over at the pile of candies stacked up near the exit.

2 for $1. He grabbed some Twizzlers and something called Zours he'd never tried and threw them on the pile.

Things like bleach wipes and air fresheners, tampons, earplugs.  Dr Bronners. Peppermint.

She was rebuilding her old life.

And she was planning on sleeping in the back of that van.

That thought hit him and sadly the first question he wanted to know was the last time the sheets were washed and he was ordering a new mattress ASAP.

He already had Koenig on the surveillance and coms equip, plus some good countermeasures to be installed.

Nothing lethal, just to keep curious people away if they got too nosy. 

Skye was countermeasure enough.

"Okay," she said, like she was mentally scratching off a to-do list.

She picked up the bags and looked back at him.

"Next stop: laundry mat."


	3. A Lot in Common

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DAY 6 · 25 July - 'You two have a lot in common'

Why hadn't he thought of this before?

After all the heaviness that meeting her parents, then losing them, had caused. 

That SHIELD had brought on her.

What he had done.

Why hadn't he thought of this?

She loved something that connected her to who she was before all of this began.

He followed out into the parking lot, taking one of the bags out of her hand as she reached the door and unlocked it, then pulled the sliding door open.

"So this is you setting up your own op," he said.

"Low budget op," she said, sitting on the edge of the van, taking the bag from his hand and pulling out the Zours. "Can I?"

"Go for it," he said, leaning his arm against the van, eyes scanning the empty parking lot.  It was late.

Skye knew what she was doing.  I mean, of course she did, but he'd been inside SHIELD for so long-

"Oh."

"What?" he asked, looking down at her, turned away from him.

"These candies are amazing," she said, shoving the box at him.

He watched her closely. "You're lying."

"Mmm, delicious," she said, looking back at him, holding her hand to her mouth, laughing.

He rolled his eyes and pulled one out and looked at the dust over it.

Shit.  Sour candies. Zours.

"I'm going to use this on the new recruits," she said, swallowing.  "You're my first."

"Fine," he said, taking in a breath popping it in his mouth.

"Shit.  That's pretty-"

Skye just laughed at him and then crawled into the back of the van as he closed the door to her giggling.

He opened the passenger door and got in.

 

#

 

Changing in a gas station bathroom wasn't so bad, he thought, walking back to the van in the pair of flip flops she'd insisted he get.

He could get used to this, in an off-on sort of way. 

In fact, he almost didn't feel like SHIELD right now, walking across a parking lot holding a tube of toothpaste and a toothbrush.

Catching a glimpse of himself reflected in the windows of the gas station he stopped.

Fear us HYDRA.  Fear us.

He laughed to himself, at the absurdity of it all.

Even when he'd been on the road with Hunter, Fitz and Mike, it had still felt like a SHIELD op, if not one from his younger days.

He slid open the door to the van and got it, shutting it and locking it after him.

Eventually he found his way next to her and eased down onto the floor as he tucked away the toothpaste and brush.

She was sitting on the bed, looking through photographs from one of the boxes that had been tucked underneath.

The clean sheets on it smelled like the same cheap soap he used to use at the laundromat as a kid.

Because it probably was the same cheap soap.

The mattress had been shaken out.  Twice, thanks to him.

Somehow- Okay, not somehow, it was Skye-she had talked him into this.

But he'd be lying if he didn't admit it was partly out of curiosity.  

About her life before SHIELD.

"Who was this kid?" she asked, staring down at the yellowed photo paper. "So many families.  Like a whole different lifetime."

"You?" he said, standing and hitting his head slightly on the ceiling of the van, before leaning over her shoulder.

He waited until she had scooted over to give him some room and sat down next to him.

"I guess SHIELD didn't think there was anything worth saving," she said, looking around the van.

"I didn't want you to know much about me when we first met," she confessed, handing him the picture.

"Now, you kind of know everything."

"Not everything," he replied, taking the picture from her.  Looking down at it in his hands.

An adorable little girl with pigtails and big brown eyes.  She had a smile that looked like she was trying so hard.

It broke his heart a little, that he knew that face so well.

"Trust me," he said bluntly. "They went through all of it."

"I just thought I wasn't wanted," she said, taking the photo back from him. "But that wasn't true."

"No," he said, giving her a sad smile.  "Do you recognize the legs?" he said, pointing back to the person out of frame in the image with her as a child.

"Yeah," she said.  "The shoes, see?  She had me call her 'Aunt Abby'.  She was a lab assistant. Those were the shoes she always wore on clean room days."

"Did you like her?"

"Yeah," Skye answered, grinning. "She had a really gross sense of humor. Always telling me disgusting science facts, like-" she glanced back at him with hesitating, but then started laughing before she even got it out. "-that barnacles have the largest penis to body size ratio in the entire animal kingdom."

Coulson's mouth opened, appalled.

She laughed some more.

"It's true," Skye nodded, calming down a little. "And anyway, thanks," she said to him, changing the subject.  "This makes me...happy."

He could hear the smile in her voice. Probably to have her van back.

"Good."

She takes his hand, as he looks at the blue polish on his nails.  It matches hers.

Then his breath catches between the tug of war of his emotions.

Rebellious. Protective.

Just blue polish.

Why does it make him feel so-

 _Safe_.

"Coulson?"

"Uh?"

"Are you happy?"

That was a complicated question.

"When I'm with you," he answered, trying to swallow his nerves.

"Did you like it? When I kissed you?"

"Yes."

He heard her draw in a breath, then felt her other hand against the back of his neck, pulling him into her as she kissed him. Slowly, sliding her fingers along his jawline, moving away as her thumb brushed over his mouth.

"Do you still like it?"

He found himself kissing her back letting go of her hand as she sat up to let him draw his arm around her back, wrapping her against him.

Her hand landed on his chest and before he'd realized it, she was sitting across him, her shoulders curved over to fit in the narrow head space, her hand sliding up under his shirt, his kisses getting messier and deeper as she ground her hips against his.

He let out a startling groan and she laughed.

"Too much?" she asked, her breath full of excitement.

"No."

She did it again, pushing against his straining erection.

Bringing his fingers against her stomach, he sees them. The scars from Quinn. The thought of her dying in his arms.

They were just scars. A reminder. Like his hand.

He brushed over them distracted as she tugged the bottom of her shirt over her head.

How long has he been in love with her?

He can't even move, he just looks at her in the dim light straddling him. He wants to kiss her again. To feel her bare against him.

Show her his scar, even.

Sitting up slightly, he starts to pull his t-shirt over his head, then she helps him, laughing as it tangles between their hands and his head.

Then she stills him, putting her hands on his chest, tracing along the scar with her finger.

"We have a lot in common."

 


End file.
